Just Returning the Favor
by uponagraydawn
Summary: Tadashi has finally bitten off more than he can chew, and Hiro just wants to help.


**Hi everyone! Sorry for my inactivity here! I haven't had much time to write over the summer.**

 **This is a one-shot I wrote earlier this year. It's based on an AU that some people on Tumblr and I have come up with that we call the "family of two" au. Everything is basically the same, except Hiro and Tadashi's parents died much later in their life (Tadashi was 18 and Hiro was 10—I know that isn't exactly their canon age gap, but we changed it a bit for the AU). And Aunt Cass was not there to take them in after they became orphans. Instead, Tadashi became Hiro's legal guardian. They moved into a little apartment and Tadashi supports both of them. Essentially, it's a Lilo & Stitch AU. Oh, and Baymax is a ferret. **

**...I think that's everything you need to know about the AU before reading this. If not, my apologies.**

* * *

Hiro has always been in the habit of turning off his alarm in the mornings. Not pressing the snooze button, but turning the entire thing off and letting himself immediately pass out again. It doesn't matter, he figures, since Tadashi always comes to make sure he's up anyway, and he gets a few extra minutes of sleep.

This morning is no different. His phone chimes that annoying little tune he's been meaning to change for a while, the obscenely loud volume rudely snapping him from sleep. He grumbles under his breath while groping for the device and blindly slides the lock. When the stupid thing finally shuts up, he collapses back on the bed and tugs the duvet up to his ears. It's raining; he can hear drops pattering against the window by his bed. Perfect. He hasn't even opened his eyes and already the day is off to a bad start. And it's a Thursday, he remembers grimly. He hates Thursdays.

He shuts his eyes tightly, willing himself into a doze for the few precious minutes he has left before his brother comes to drag him out of bed.

But sleep doesn't come to reclaim him. In fact, the longer he lies there, the more awake he feels. It takes a moment for Hiro to realize that it's because something doesn't feel right, and the unease nagging at the back of his mind is demanding that he find out why.

He quickly runs through a mental checklist. He refilled Baymax's food and water dishes last night, so that can't be it. He did, somehow, manage to finish all the homework due today. He took out the trash like Tadashi asked him to. He doesn't think he'd left anything electronic on overnight. So what…?

Then it hits him. The apartment's too quiet. Tadashi is always in the shower this time of morning, a sound that Hiro can hear from his bedroom and has unconsciously become a sound of reassurance. Without it, he can't go back to sleep.

Quiet curses tumble from his mouth as he flings back the bedclothes and heaves himself out the warm bed and into the icy air. Tadashi insists on keeping the apartment cold, and Hiro still can't determine if it's because he actually _likes_ it or if he just wants to lower the utilities bill. Either way, it's always a thorn in Hiro's side every morning.

He pulls on an oversized sweatshirt and stoops down to quickly bid Baymax good morning before venturing out to see why Tadashi isn't in the shower yet. The apartment is washed in soft gray light, speckled from the raindrops dripping down the windowpanes. It's peaceful in its own way, even if Hiro is dreading the thought of walking out in it. Autumn is just beginning to settle in, so it'll be chilly too. Great.

His large brown eyes sweep over the tiny living area, still scattered with papers and empty takeout cartons from the previous night, and travel to the kitchenette. He thought his brother might be making coffee, but the little space is dark and empty. Weird. He makes his way to the hall where the two doors to Tadashi's bedroom and bathroom are and immediately notices that both are dark, and there's no sign of activity at all. The lurch his heart makes in his chest takes him by surprise. Tadashi probably just slept through his alarm. After all, he's been so exhausted lately. No matter how much he tries to hide it or push through it, the dark circles ringing his eyes and the amount of coffee he regularly consumes speak for themselves. So it would be completely understandable if all the long shifts and late nights have finally caught up with him and blocked out the sound of his alarm.

Hiro's chest puffs out a little. Good thing he's decided to get up and save his brother from being late to his morning class.

He pushes open the bedroom door and a stripe of silvery light falls across the bed on the opposite of the room, outlining the form underneath a rumpled pile of blankets. Instinctively, Hiro bends his knees and bounces up onto his toes in preparation. Then he launches himself onto the bed with all the force he can muster, landing squarely on what he judges to be Tadashi's torso with a loud, "RISE AND SHINE!"

The body underneath him tenses, but otherwise doesn't move.

Hiro juts out his bottom lip in a thoughtful pout and reaches down to jostle the older boy's shoulder roughly. "Tadaaashi, wake up. It's almost seven. You slept through your alarm." His voice adopts the annoying tone that Tadashi's does every morning when he has to rouse Hiro from bed.

He expects his older brother to jolt upright and shout something like, "Are you _serious_?" before checking his phone to confirm it for himself and practically exploding from shock.

But the information that should've had Tadashi springing up from bed in a frenzied panic derives absolutely no response at all from the stationary lump under the covers.

Hiro frowns and shakes his brother harder. "Tadashiii. Get up. I want breakfast."

A low groan drawls out from under the duvet, gravelly and deep. "Go make it yourself," Tadashi whispers.

"What, you're not gonna get up?" Hiro leans down and lets his elbows dig into what must be Tadashi's back, evoking a grunt from his brother. "Weren't you listening? I said it's almost seven. You're gonna be late."

He feels Tadashi take a deep, controlled breath. "Hiro, please get off of me."

It's that moment that Hiro realizes something is actually wrong.

This isn't like Tadashi at all. His voice is weak, like he doesn't even have the energy to speak above a throaty whisper, and there are no traces of sarcasm or jest. He sounds…he sounds miserable.

"Hey." Hiro climbs down from the bed and moves to the pillow, reaching out to pull back the covers from Tadashi's head. "Are you okay?"

The older boy is lying stomach-down, face turned towards the wall. Upon having the sheets pulled back, he twists onto his back and sits up at a painfully slow pace. Then he raises a hand to his face and rubs at his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "Yeah. Go get ready for school. I'll… I'll make you some breakfast."

Hiro's brows draw together as he studies his brother. "No, seriously. You don't sound good."

Tadashi removes his hand from his face and his eyes slide over to Hiro.

" _Yeesh_." Hiro jerks back. "You don't look good either."

That's almost an understatement. Tadashi looks just as bad as he sounds. Worse, maybe. His voice is deep and hoarse, punctuated with a rasp and congestion that doesn't come from sleep alone. The dark bruises under his eyes are still there, more prominent than ever against a white complexion. His cheeks are flushed with pink, and his disheveled bedhead and morning scruff don't make him look any more composed.

"Are you sick?"

Tadashi runs his hand over his face again. "Just a cold, kiddo. No big deal. Now go get ready for school."

Hiro blinks. "What about you?"

"I'm skipping my first class," he says as he swings his legs over the side of the bed. "I'll make you breakfast while you get ready. Go on."

"Um…okay." He gives his brother one last lingering look before obediently returning to his room to get dressed.

He won't admit it, but he's a little concerned. Tadashi must really be feeling bad if he's deciding to skip class. That in and of itself is a _huge_ red flag, considering how adamant he is about education. Though, with the amount of sleep he gets, it's a wonder he hasn't gotten ill sooner.

As Hiro pulls on a pair of pants and fishes a jacket out from the bowels of his closet, he wonders if he should skip school too. Just to make sure Tadashi is okay, of course. He wouldn't want him to be home sick _alone_. And besides, knowing him, he probably won't even spend the time resting. It'd probably be best for Tadashi if Hiro stay home as well.

Hiro is reaching for the doorknob to inform his brother of this decision when a series of loud, grating coughs resounds through the apartment. He cringes instinctively. God, he really does sound _awful_.

"Tadashi?" he calls out, wandering toward the kitchen.

Tadashi is at the stove, poking at eggs in a pan with a spatula. A faint trickling noise heralds brewing coffee. "Hm?" he murmurs before stifling a cough into his shoulder, obviously trying to hold it back.

Hiro slides onto one of the barstools. "You just gonna hack all over my breakfast?"

Tadashi rolls his eyes and gives his head a little shake. "You should be thanking me for making you breakfast in the first place," he says.

"I don't want it if it's got your sicky germs all over it."

"Well, you can go without eating if you're really that worried about it."

They both know that is definitely not going to happen, a fact evident in the way Tadashi's mouth turns up smugly at the corner. Hiro merely rolls his eyes.

A silence stretches between them, filled only with the sizzling of frying eggs and the pattering of rain outside and the drumming of Hiro's restless fingers on the countertop. He takes a breath, chews on the inside of his cheek thoughtfully for a moment, and then finally blurts, "I'm gonna stay home with you today, okay?"

"Absolutely not."

The response is immediate and resolved, spoken in what Hiro has come to call his brother's "dad voice." The dad voice always means that the issue at hand is in no way up for discussion, and that no matter how much Hiro argues, Tadashi will not budge on his stance.

But that never stops Hiro from trying.

He gives Tadashi his best deadpan stare. "I'm not gonna leave you here by yourself when you're sick," he scoffs, like the prospect is the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard. "And besides, you always stay home with me when _I'm_ sick. I'm just returning the favor."

Tadashi shovels the eggs onto a plate and sets it down on the counter with probably a little more force than necessary. He fixes him with a rather unimpressed, weary look that somehow accentuates the bags under his eyes. "Don't be stupid, Hiro. You're going to school. I'll come pick you up at three, okay?"

Hiro's brow furrows. "You're not going to stay home?"

His brother sighs heavily and lifts a hand to massage his forehead. "Didn't you hear me, bonehead? I'm going in later—I've got too much stuff to do to stay home. My morning class is just a business lecture, so I decided to sleep in. But instead I'm standing here making you breakfast." His shoulders slump like he suddenly doesn't have the energy to hold himself up anymore, and he plants his hands on the edge of the counter. "I'm going back to bed," he mumbles. "Please get to school on time. And be ready when I come to get you."

"Aren't you going to eat?" Hiro says when Tadashi begins to walk away.

"Not hungry."

Hiro is left gaping at his back as he shuffles to his bedroom, keeping one hand on the wall. He hears the door slam and makes a face. Tadashi always gets grumpy when he's overtired (Hiro knows he's always at least a little tired), but whatever bug he's managed to catch is making it worse.

Hiro really does hate the thought of leaving him here. He may be the adult, but no one should be alone when they don't feel well. And it's pretty obvious that Tadashi feels like dirt.

Suddenly the eggs in his mouth don't seem so appetizing. He dumps the plate and fork in the sink just as a soft beep sounds to his left, signifying the coffee has finished brewing. Tadashi didn't even wait for it to get done.

With a glance at the clock, Hiro determines he still has a minute or two before the bus arrives, so he snatches a mug from the cupboard and fills it with the dark, steaming liquid. He adds a couple spoonfuls of sugar and a little milk, the way Tadashi usually drinks it, and then holds it carefully with two hands as he makes his way to his brother's room.

When he pushes the door open, he sees Tadashi collapsed face-first on the bed, sprawled out like he just threw himself down. He didn't even bother to get under the covers. The way his chest rises and falls slowly and rhythmically indicates that he's already fallen asleep.

Hiro sets the mug on his nightstand. It'll probably be cold by the time Tadashi wakes up, but it's the thought that counts, right?

He's about to leave for good when he hesitates and turns back around to give his brother another long, lingering look. He'll probably be getting chilly soon with that fever. The idiot. He's good at taking care of Hiro, but spectacularly bad at taking care of himself, no matter what he says. So Hiro carefully and gently rearranges his limbs to tug the duvet out from underneath them, and then pulls it over the older boy. Tadashi doesn't even stir. Well, if he's this knocked out, at least Hiro can leave knowing he actually will be getting rest instead of doing homework or something else he doesn't need to be doing while he's ill.

He presses a hand to his brother's forehead as an afterthought, and the intensity of the heat radiating from it almost makes him flinch in surprise. _What have you done to yourself this time?_ Hiro thinks with a frown. If he knew Tadashi didn't have the ability to kick his ass into next week, he'd skip school in a heartbeat to look after him. But Tadashi _does_ have the ability to kick his ass into next week, and Hiro would really rather not have to deal with that. Besides, it's probably just a bad cold. He'll be fine.

Hiro tells himself that over and over as he grabs his backpack from the hook by the door and rushes out into the rain to catch the bus.

* * *

School seems to drag on longer than usual, and it's harder to focus. Not that it's ever easy. Hiro finds most of his classes and their subject matter mundane and boring. Nothing he learns is ever very stimulating. And it doesn't help one bit that he's such an outcast and sticks out like a sore thumb. Most kids ignore him, and he supposes that's the best he can hope for. It's rare that his classmates ever reach out to him for a reason other than getting help with homework—something he has made very clear he is not willing to give. In the end, the persona of an aloof, quiet, antisocial kid works pretty well for him.

He can't wait to get out of this hellhole. If his estimation is correct, it'll only take him another year or two before he can graduate and be done with it.

He texts Tadashi throughout the course of the morning to check up on him, but the idiot hasn't answered yet. Hopefully that means he's still asleep. Or maybe he did actually get to school and put his phone on silent during class. That's what Hiro tries to convince himself of, anyway, but Tadashi's failure to respond only makes the day drag by slower. He's not worried. A little uneasy, maybe, but not worried. Still, how hard would it be for Tadashi to take a few seconds to let Hiro know he's all right?

He's sitting in English class listening to his teacher go on about modernism (or is it postmodernism? Hiro hasn't been paying much attention) when his phone vibrates in his pocket. His heart lurches in his chest as he drops his pencil and reaches for it. _Finally. It's about time, Tadashi_. But what he sees on the screen is one of the last things he expected.

A text from one of Tadashi's college friends. Hiro didn't even know any of them had his number. (Tadashi probably gave it to them in case of an emergency. Shocking.)

 _Hi Hiro!_ , it read. _This is Honey Lemon, one of Tadashi's friends (in case you don't remember me). We're all wondering where he is? He didn't show up to the lab today and he's not answering his phone. Is everything okay?_

Hiro's stomach drops.

Uh oh.

 _He's sick_ , he replies, fingers flying over the keys. _I guess he's still at home_.

Not even half a minute later, she texts back. _Oh, so sorry to hear that! Tell him we all hope he feels better soon!_

Hiro stares at the screen, but doesn't bother replying. So Tadashi didn't make it into school today after all, and he's not answering his phone. That can't be good.

"Mr. Hamada."

His head snaps up at the sound of his teacher barking his name.

"Phones away in my class, please," she says.

Heat floods his cheeks as heads turn to look in his direction. "S-sorry," he murmurs, and slips the phone back into his pocket.

Inwardly, he's fighting back the urge to snap at her, yell that his older brother is home sick _alone_ and no one can get ahold of him and _yes, he's actually pretty worried now_. But instead, he sinks down in his seat and begins gnawing nervously on the plastic aglet of his hoodie's drawstring.

He feels jittery and tense for the rest of the class, and if it was hard to pay attention before, it's practically impossible now. His leg bounces up and down incessantly and he can't keep his hands still. The good news is that the lunch period begins when this perpetual class ends.

As soon as the bell rings, Hiro's hopping up from his desk and darting for the door before the crowds start flooding the hallways. He doesn't care what Tadashi wants—it's no longer a matter of skipping school. A lot of bad scenarios have been popping up in his mind, one after the other, and he needs to know that everything's okay before he combusts.

 _Dammit, Tadashi_ , he thinks as he jogs down the sidewalk, redialing his brother's number for the third time. It rings and rings and rings until voicemail picks up again. _Why won't you just answer your stupid phone!?_

And is it faster to wait for a tram or just book it on foot? He doesn't think he can stand waiting, so he takes off down the street, proficiently dodging pedestrians. It's times like these when he's glad to be so small, and at least running can burn off all the nervous energy built up during that last half hour of class. It's raining harder than it was this morning. In the span of only a few minutes he's already soaked, but he finds himself not caring one bit about it now.

Despite the fact that he doesn't slow down at all on the way home, it still feels like far too much time has passed when the apartment building finally comes into view. It really is too far a journey to travel on foot regularly, but any other mode of transportation would've taken just as long and Hiro doesn't have any patience to spare. He's panting, but he doesn't slow down until he reaches the stairs and climbs the four flights to their door.

The knob won't turn when he jiggles it. Oh, right. He locked the door when he left. Tadashi's ingrained that habit into him. _Always lock the door, knucklehead. You never know what might happen._ And as good as it is to know that Tadashi hasn't been sleeping by himself with the door unlocked, right now it's just another obstacle in Hiro's way. He tries to get his breathing under control while he digs around in his backpack for the key, water dripping from the ends of his hair. By the time he's struggling with the deadbolt, his heart is hammering a harsh, rapid staccato against his chest and blood is pounding in his ears, and it has nothing to do with the run.

It takes longer than usual to get the door unlocked, naturally, so by the time he finally pushes it open he's already shedding his backpack and tossing his key onto the kitchen table. He doesn't take the time to lock it behind him.

"Tadashi?" he calls out, his feet instinctively taking him toward his brother's bedroom.

The light is on in his bathroom, which at least indicates that Tadashi is still home. But Hiro doesn't receive an answer. A cold sense of dread washes down his back.

"Tadashi!" he repeats.

Then he hears his answer—an awful retching, gagging sound from behind the closed bathroom door. Hiro's heart nearly stops but his feet throw him forward. His insides feel cold and tingly with panic and apprehension as he turns the knob with numb fingers.

Tadashi is kneeling on the tiles, practically hanging off of the toilet. His back heaves as he retches again, and even standing a few feet away Hiro can tell that there's nothing left in his stomach to throw up except a thin, filmy bile. His shirt is clinging to his skin, damp with sweat. The scarlet flush is still high and bright on his cheeks and he's shaking violently.

Hiro seems to be frozen at the sight. He stands in the doorway with his mouth hanging open stupidly, trying to make himself move but failing.

"Get out, Hiro," Tadashi gasps, barely turning his head away from the toilet bowl.

Finally, he's able to take a step into the bathroom. "Tadash—"

" _I said get out_!"

But the next second he's coughing and gagging and spitting again, and there's no way in hell Hiro's going to leave him alone in a state like this. As soon as his body lets him, he rushes to his brother's side. Only then does he realize he actually has no clue what to do to help, so he does the first thing that comes to mind. He reaches out and awkwardly lays a hand on Tadashi's back, cringing when he feels how hot and sweaty it is. Heat is rolling off the older boy in waves, and he reeks of vomit and malaise. Hiro runs his hand across the sticky fabric of his T-shirt and can only hope that it's doing a little bit of good.

Tadashi retches a few more times before crumpling onto the floor and leaning his head back against the wall. His breath comes in gasps and his eyes fall shut in obvious exhaustion.

"Are you okay?" Hiro asks intently, keeping his hand on Tadashi's shoulder in case he falls over or something like that.

After a few seconds of deep, controlled breathing, Tadashi opens his eyes a crack and gives Hiro a weary sidelong glance. "I told you to get out."

"Don't be stupid," Hiro snaps. He's not sure he's doing a good job of keeping the fright out of his voice. "I'm not leaving you by yourself again. _Are you okay?_ Should I call a doctor?"

"No." His head rolls along the wall, like he doesn't have the strength to hold it up. "I'm fine. I'll be fine. Just...just tired."

Hiro shakes his head in disbelief, but feels a bit of weight leave his shoulders. "You're such an idiot."

Tadashi doesn't respond to the insult, which does nothing to abate Hiro's worry. This is definitely not the worst scenario his brain has conjured up in the past half hour, but it's still alarming. The sight of Tadashi puking his guts out is a pretty disconcerting thing to come home to. But at least he's not out cold on the floor—an image that has been one of the more popular possibilities among Hiro's anxious thoughts. He gives his brother another moment to calm down, watching his breathing slow and his fists unclench and his trembling subside a bit.

"Can you get back to bed?" he asks. "Are you gonna throw up again?"

Tadashi finally pulls his head off the wall and braces his hands on the floor. "Yeah. No. I'm all right."

Hiro crouches, firmly gripping the older boy's upper arm, and together they stand slowly. Tadashi's shaky and stumbles a bit, but Hiro tucks himself up under his arm and keeps a firm hand on his back to stabilize him. They walk to the bedroom at a snail's pace.

Hiro's actually alarmed by how weak Tadashi is. Most of his brother's weight is bearing down on his thin shoulders, and he can feel how much he's shivering now. He can hear his feet dragging over the floor, since he apparently can't even muster the energy to pick them up. A small, niggling feeling of guilt worms its way into Hiro's stomach. Maybe he really should have fought harder to stay home and take care of his brother. Even though he's pretty sure neither of them predicted that Tadashi would end up being quite _this_ sick, it's still their job to look out for one another. And Tadashi's always gone above and beyond in that department.

It's rare that circumstances ever require Hiro to care for Tadashi like this. And if Hiro's completely honest with himself, it feels weird to have the roles reversed. He's never thought of his older brother as someone that needs to be taken care of. Tadashi has done enough parenting for the both of them over the years, handling their legal business and money and always looking after Hiro on top of taking care of himself.

And Hiro… Hiro hasn't done much to help his brother out.

So he'll try to make up for it now.

Tadashi's strength gives out the moment they reach his bed, and he collapses onto the mattress with a groan. Hiro pulls the covers over him again like he had earlier that day, taking care to tuck them in well.

When he's satisfied, he draws back to find Tadashi watching him with half-lidded eyes.

"You're soaked, bonehead," he murmurs sleepily.

Hiro sits on the side of the bed and folds his arms over his chest. "Yeah, I ran all the way home from school because _someone_ wasn't answering their phone."

"You shouldn't've done that," Tadashi drawls. "I can manage by myself."

"I can see that. You can hardly walk." Hiro's voice drips with sarcasm, and not the teasing kind. Now that things have calmed down and his rush of panic is subsiding, irritation is taking its place. "Why didn't you answer your phone? I've been texting you all morning and so have your friends from school. You had everybody worried."

His older brother swallows thickly and winces. "Really? Sorry, I…I think I've been asleep most of the day. I thought I'd hear if somebody called, but I only woke up when I had to…you know. I've been in the bathroom ever since."

Hiro's eyes widen. "So you haven't taken medicine or anything?"

Tadashi weakly shakes his head before turning to cough into the pillow. The cough only sounds worse, deep and painful.

Inwardly, Hiro cringes. He's glad nothing more serious happened, but he can't feel completely relieved when Tadashi's still in this state. He doesn't know what to do for him beyond copying the things Tadashi does for him when he's sick. But he's never been as ill as his brother seems to be now. Even without touching him directly, he knows he's burning up with fever and is obviously beyond exhausted and the vomiting can't be a good sign. Maybe he should call a doctor. Or Tadashi's school friends, at the very least. They'd probably know what to do.

"Hey."

Tadashi's soft, rasping voice draws his eyes back up from where they'd fallen to the floor.

"I'll be all right," he says. "It's just a bad case of the flu."

The irony of the situation almost makes Hiro laugh. Even now, Tadashi's the one comforting him, looking out for his wellbeing. "Are you sure?" he asks. "This morning you said it was just a cold."

A small grin plays over his lips. "I'm sure, bonehead. Trust me. I'll be fine."

Hiro finds himself believing it—his brother _is_ the one with all the medical knowledge, after all— and a soft sigh releases itself from his lungs. "Well, I guess you're not going anywhere now."

Tadashi gives a huff of a laugh that's not really a laugh and only reflects his exhaustion, and brings a hand up to rub his eyes. "Yeah. I'm supposed to work tonight, too. I guess I'll have to call…"

"I'll do it," Hiro is quick to say. "I'll get you anything you need. Just…just let me know. Okay?"

A genuine smile lights up Tadashi's too-bright eyes. "Thanks, knucklehead. I think I just need sleep more than anything."

Hiro nods. "Well, don't go to sleep yet. I'm gonna get you some medicine." He turns to the door and begins to make for the kitchen, but then hesitates, thinking.

"Tylenol, Hiro," Tadashi says. "Get the Tylenol."

"Right. I knew that."

* * *

Despite pumping him full of medicine, Tadashi's fever gets worse as the day progresses. He has to occasionally instruct Hiro about what to do, and every time he asks for more water or another blanket, Hiro feels more and more like the world's worst brother because he should _know_ to do these things instead of having to be told.

To his credit, though, he does remember to make a cold compress out of a washcloth for Tadashi's head and take his temperature regularly. But despite his best efforts, the numbers keep climbing slowly. Hiro expressed his concern during one of Tadashi's short bouts of wakefulness, but the older boy only replied by mumbling, "Jus' gotta sweat it out. S'fine," before rolling over and falling asleep again.

Hiro is scared to leave his brother's side. He hasn't thrown up again, but there's a waste basket by the bed just in case and Hiro prays he won't have to use it. Once he tried to get him to eat a few saltines, but Tadashi adamantly refused them by insisting that they'd just come back up. He's doing his best to stay hydrated but it's hard when he can't even stay awake for ten minutes and doesn't seem overly eager to put anything in his mouth. As his fever hovers around 102.8 degrees, Hiro wonders if he really will need to get him to a hospital or something. There haven't been any signs of improvement and he's out of treatment options.

At around six in the evening, he decides that if Tadashi's temperature nears 104, he'll call a doctor. That seems pretty reasonable to his twelve-year-old brain. Still, the fact that he can build a well-functioning robot nearly from scratch but can't get his brother's fever to go down frustrates him to no end. Maybe if he hadn't left Tadashi alone…

He pushes a hand through his hair and glances at the clock again. It's almost time to give him more medicine. He's made sure to keep up with that, at least.

He reaches out to remove the washcloth with the intention of running it under more cold water, frowning as his fingers once again brush against Tadashi's burning forehead, when the older boy suddenly tenses. His head jerks against the pillow, and Hiro watches intently as his eyes flutter open.

"Tadashi?" he says softly, retaking his seat on the edge of the mattress. "You awake?"

His brother's gaze lingers on the ceiling for a few seconds before slowly turning to Hiro. Instead of answering, he struggles to prop himself up on his elbows and drag his body into a sitting position.

It's when he reaches out to push back the pile of blankets that Hiro places a hand on his shoulder. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Where are you going?"

"Gotta go t'work," Tadashi mutters, words slurred and slow.

Hiro blinks in confusion. "Tadashi, I already called your boss and told him you weren't coming in. He said it was okay."

Tadashi stares at him for a moment too long, and Hiro's stomach twists uneasily when he sees how bright and glazed over his eyes are. He blinks owlishly, like his eyelids weigh a thousand pounds. "Why'd y'do _that?_ I gotta…I gotta work or we won't have any money." He struggles pitifully against Hiro's hand. "I gotta buy food, and…and rent. We're gonna get thrown out 'n…" His struggling becomes a little stronger as his voice grows more desperate. "Hiro's gonna be hungry. It's my fault—it's my fault. If I don't go to work we'll get thrown out and I can't buy food… S'my fault…"

By now Hiro has realized these are just feverish ramblings, but the fear in Tadashi's voice is too real for comfort. He's never heard his brother sound so genuinely scared before. Even in the midst of fatigue and illness, there's only one thing Tadashi is worrying about—him.

Hiro pushes on his shoulders and it's way too easy to get him to lie back down. "Tadashi, it's okay. We have enough money. Missing one day isn't gonna hurt anything."

Tadashi shakes his head back and forth across the pillow, staring up with pleading, terrified eyes. "No… No, I have'ta go or Hiro'll be hungry… I can't let 'im be hungry again…"

That's when Hiro's heart shatters.

He knows Tadashi's talking about last year. The rough patch when their meager savings had run out and Tadashi couldn't find a steady job. When they'd almost been evicted from the apartment and didn't have enough food. When the water had been shut off and they spent a week using the showers at SFIT before his friends finally figured out what was going on and Tadashi had to accept their charity in order to feed Hiro. It was a dark time. It didn't last very long, thankfully, but for a while they had to live off of donations until Tadashi was able to find a job that paid well and would keep him on. Hiro remembered being dirty and hungry most of the time, wearing shoes that were too small because he was growing and they couldn't afford new shoes so often.

He'd never seen Tadashi more distraught than during that time. He did his best to act like everything was okay so Hiro wouldn't worry (like he always does), but Hiro knew better. He can't always tell when his brother is hiding something from him or making their situation seem better off than it is since he's a surprisingly good liar, but it was easy to tell during those days. Tadashi would sit at their little kitchen table into the wee hours of the morning, poring over papers and typing furiously into a calculator. He complained of headaches more often and was constantly grumpy. He and Hiro fought more than they ever had. Tadashi also noticeably thinned out. They both lost a little weight, but Tadashi more than Hiro. He always insisted that Hiro take the larger portion of their scant food supply, unsurprisingly, and convinced him to do it by saying that he wasn't that hungry or some other excuse that Hiro didn't really _believe_ , but didn't put up a fight against. That, coupled with the stress Tadashi was under every second of every day, definitely took its toll.

He never talked to Hiro about it. And while Hiro wasn't completely ignorant of what was going on, he also wasn't a mind-reader. It's only now, when the memories are coming back to haunt Tadashi in his delirium, that he begins to realize the sheer depth of stress his brother was under—is _always_ under. How worried must a person be for their anxieties to claim their thoughts even in the midst of illness and exhaustion?

It makes Hiro's heart ache.

Tadashi always says it's not Hiro's job to worry about money, but it's not fair for Tadashi to have to shoulder such a enormous burden all on his own. Hiro doesn't want to stand by and watch his brother deteriorate under it while he's doing nothing to help—and especially when he's capable of helping.

Tadashi tries to sit up again, and Hiro pushes the thoughts aside. He'll worry about them later. For now, he needs to be focused on helping his brother get well.

"M'cold," Tadashi slurs, scrabbling at the edge of the coverlet.

Hiro pulls the mound of blankets up to his chin. "I don't think there are any more blankets, but I can get the comforter from my bed if you want." He doesn't know why he's bothering to try to have a rational conversation since Tadashi's so out of it, but he hopes something will get through. Anyways, it feels weird not to answer him.

"Don't turn up the heat," Tadashi mumbles, obviously on the verge of sleep.

 _Unbelievable_ , Hiro thinks. He's still worried about money, even now. Hiro actually had raised the temperature a few hours ago, when Tadashi couldn't stop shaking even after he'd laid every blanket he could find on top of him. But he isn't going to tell Tadashi that.

Instead, he shakes his head. "You're ridiculous. Just stay in bed, you big dummy. It's okay. Everything's okay."

Tadashi murmurs something that's probably another protest, but Hiro can't make it out. It seems that his strength has reached its limit, because his eyes close again and he stops moving. Hiro takes this moment to resoak the washcloth and use it to wipe the sweat from his brother's face.

The level of lethargy Tadashi has been showing is starting to get very concerning. He can't stay awake for five minutes and remain lucid enough to carry a conversation, and half the time it seems he barely has the energy to lie there and _breathe_ , let alone move much. Hiro is certainly no medical expert, and he can't say for sure just why this illness is taking so much out of Tadashi, but he suspects it has a lot to do with how _tired_ he's been lately.

He's been running himself into the ground with school and projects and his jobs and taking care of Hiro, and it's surprising it's taken him this long to collapse. He's obviously caught a bug, but fatigue seems to have finally hit him full-force too. The combination is brutal. It'll probably take him days—if not weeks—to get his strength back after this.

 _Idiot_ , Hiro thinks again. _Why do let yourself get this exhausted? You don't have to do everything on your own._

He'll make a point of telling his brother that when he's coherent enough to understand.

For the next few hours, he busies himself with homework, making a nice, unorganized workspace on the floor beside the bed. He lets Baymax wander around the room while he works for company since Tadashi being unconscious all the time is making him feel a little lonely. It's not really like him to dive into his schoolwork like this, but for some reason he feels the need to be productive. Maybe it's because Tadashi can't be right now. And homework is the only thing he can do at the moment that might go a little ways in relieving stress on both of them.

He listens to his brother's labored, congested breathing and the rain tapping against the window while he works his way through math problems and worksheets. It really doesn't take much time or effort, but he keeps getting distracted by his ferret and the doodles of bot designs in the margins of his notes. Not to mention that a large part of his work is annotating a boring piece of American literature, which he has absolutely no interest in doing. It's those factors that draw out actually finishing the homework, but he forces himself to keep at it, despite his flighty attention span. He's already decided to stay home with Tadashi tomorrow, because there's no way he'll be better by then, so he might as well try to get caught up on schoolwork.

The light bleeds out of the sky slowly, and by the time Hiro's focus has officially run out, it's nearing nine in the evening and he's hungry. He pushes his notes and books aside and stretches before scooping Baymax up and returning him to his cage.

Tadashi's still completely knocked out, but he makes sure by snapping his fingers in front of his face a few times. Then he makes his way into the kitchen to get another dose of medicine for when he wakes up. Maybe he should try to make some soup or something. Tadashi doesn't really like him to cook unsupervised, but surely he can handle instant soup.

For the next twenty minutes, he busies himself with heating up a can of chicken noodle soup on the stove and making a sandwich for his own dinner. Hiro's determined to get something substantial into Tadashi's stomach. He hasn't eaten hardly anything all day and, when the roles are reversed, Tadashi is always very stubborn about getting Hiro to eat. Although he's complained of nausea, he hasn't thrown up again. That's got to be a good sign.

Hiro quickly devours his sloppily-made PB&J, and by then the soup is steaming so he ladles a little into a cereal bowl, grabs a spoon and a napkin, and takes it back to Tadashi's room. And he didn't even burn anything down. Tadashi'll be so proud.

His brother is exactly like he left him—hasn't moved an inch. Hiro sets the soup on the nightstand in the same place he'd set the coffee mug this morning (which had, unsurprisingly, gone completely untouched) and gets to work rousing his ill sibling.

"Tadashi," he says, keeping his voice soft. His hand gently shakes the older boy's shoulder. "Wake up. I made you dinner."

Tadashi doesn't even stir.

Hiro shakes him harder. "Tadashi. Wake _up_."

The larger boy remains limp and unresponsive. His breathing is heavy, rattling with congestion. Hiro shakes him even more roughly, and an unsettling chill rolls down his back when it does nothing to evoke a response.

" _Tadashi_!" he shouts, now using both hands to rock his older brother back and forth violently.

Finally, _finally_ , there's movement under his eyelids, and he slowly pries them open. Hiro stares, concern creasing his brow, and leans in toward Tadashi's face.

"Hiro," Tadashi observes weakly. "Wha…?"

Hiro almost melts with relief. He presses a hand to his chest and releases a loud, drawn-out sigh. "Oh, man. I thought you were dying."

Tadashi makes a feeble attempt to sit up, but immediately flops back down with a low groan. "I am."

Hiro smirks. The fact that he's clearheaded enough to make melodramatic remarks now eases his concern a little. He presses the backs of his fingers against his brother's cheek and dares to think that, maybe, he feels just slightly cooler. "I think your fever might've gone down a little. How do you feel?"

"Like shit."

And that's how Hiro knows he's not exaggerating. Tadashi _never_ curses around him when he's in his right mind, and the fact that he does now is a little disconcerting.

"I made you some soup," Hiro says, waving the bowl in front of his face. "You need to eat some."

Tadashi closes his eyes and draws in a long breath. Then he lets it out in a huff. "Okay."

Hiro had been expecting to have to put up some kind of fight, argue about why he can't keep denying food, so the immediate compliance takes him by surprise. Tadashi struggles to sit up, so he sets the bowl back down and helps him as best he can. He stacks up pillows against the wall and Tadashi leans back into them, a small noise of discomfort escaping his lips.

"Do you have Advil?" he asks, rubbing small circles into his temple.

Hiro wordlessly hands him a few tablets and a glass of water. Once Tadashi swallows them, he sets the bowl of soup in his lap and holds out the spoon. "I made this all by myself, so you better eat at least half of it. Okay?"

Tadashi smiles wanly. "Okay."

Hiro can't help but notice the way his brother's hand trembles a little as he raises the spoon to his lips. When he swallows the first mouthful, he grimaces again despite what Hiro suspects is an unsuccessful attempt to keep his features blank.

"What's wrong?" Hiro asks, frowning. "Does it taste bad?"

"No, it's fine," he replies. "Just hurts to swallow."

Hiro's frown deepens. He's never seen Tadashi like this and it's unexpectedly troubling. He keeps on staring as his brother begins to drain the bowl, almost expecting him to drop the spoon or spill soup all over the bed.

It gets to the point where Tadashi lowers the bowl and rolls his eyes. "You don't have to keep staring at me, knucklehead. I'm not gonna keel over."

Hiro lifts a skeptical eyebrow. "I don't know about that. Every time you've woken up today you pass out a few minutes later. I think this is the longest you've stayed awake in eight hours."

Tadashi kind of laughs. "I'm awake now, okay? If I feel sleepy I'll let you know."

Hiro's still unconvinced, because he sure _looks_ sleepy, but doesn't bother to point it out. Instead he fiddles with his hoodie's strings while Tadashi finishes eating. The bowl is handed back a few minutes later with just less than half the soup still in it, and Hiro feels a small sense of accomplishment.

"How are you feeling now?" he inquires.

Tadashi scrubs at his face with both hands. "Kinda like I got hit by a bus. My head is killing me."

"The medicine will probably help soon."

"It hasn't helped yet," he sighs, sinking further back into the pillows.

Hiro purses his lips and reaches for the glass of water on the nightstand. "Drink some water and I'll take your temperature again."

Tadashi complies silently, swallowing a few gulps and tucking the thermometer Hiro hands him under his tongue. Both brothers frown minutes later when it reads 103° even.

"So much for it going down," Tadashi breathes.

"I don't get it!" Hiro cries in frustration. "I've done _everything_ and _nothing's_ helping."

"It's just gotta run its course." Tadashi shrugs the blankets further up his shoulders. "I'll be fine in another day or so."

The sentence suddenly strikes a chord in Hiro. He looks Tadashi dead in the eye and scowls darkly. "No, you won't. You're not gonna be fine if you don't stop working so hard."

His brother was obviously not expecting those words to come out of his mouth. He blinks a few times in confusion before his brow furrows. "Hiro…we've talked about this. I don't have a choice—"

"Yes, you do!" Hiro slides off of the bed. "You can't keep _doing_ this, Tadashi. Look at yourself! You keep putting all this stress on yourself when you don't have to. I can help! I…I can get a job. Or—or sell one of my inventions. We'd have more than enough money, and then you could quit working at the supermarket—"

"Hiro, _stop_."

The sheer intensity and volume of Tadashi's raspy voice is enough to make the twelve-year-old pause.

"We've _talked_ about this," the older boy says slowly, deliberately. "You're not getting a job, and you're definitely _not_ selling anything. How many times have I told you that you need to focus on school?"

Hiro huffs loudly. "And how many times have I told _you_ that school is boring and doesn't teach me anything?"

Tadashi's hand comes up to massage his head again. "That's not the point, Hiro. You need to graduate high school, and you _need_ to go to college. It's not up for discussion."

"But I need to help out here, too," Hiro retorts, lowering his voice a little in consideration of Tadashi's headache. "You can't keep doing everything by yourself."

"It's my job."

Tadashi lowers his hand and raises his eyes, and he looks so incredibly bone-weary that Hiro feels a physical pain in his gut. He's the reason that Tadashi's like this—so exhausted and overworked that he's made himself sick.

"It's _my_ job to provide for you," his brother continues, sitting up a little straighter. "You're not supposed to have to worry about things like money. You're just supposed to get an education so you can actually _get_ somewhere in life, because despite what you think, you can't coast by on just your brains. It's my job to make sure you'll be okay. I want to see you make something of yourself, Hiro, and you can't do that if you're worried about making ends meet all the time. Trust me, I…I know."

Hiro halts in his pacing, tiny shoulders falling. "So wh…what're you saying? You're not going to make anything of yourself just so I can get an education? But—you're the one in college. You're the one always talking about helping people. I thought…"

Tadashi smiles sadly. "That was before."

The younger boy shakes his head subtly. "Tadashi…"

"Hiro, listen. There's something…" He huffs loudly and rakes a hand through his hair. "I'm—I'm thinking about dropping out of college."

Hiro freezes. For a few long seconds, the two brothers just stare at one another. Then the words register in Hiro's mind.

" _What?_ " he shouts, and barely notices Tadashi wince at the loud noise. "You can't! You worked so hard to get into SFIT! You can't throw that away, Tadashi! Mom and Dad wouldn't—"

"Mom and Dad would want me to take care of you the best that I can!" Tadashi retaliates loudly in a moment of heated anger. But the brief burst of energy fades almost instantly and a coughing fit suddenly racks his body. Hiro can only watch as he rides it out, and by the time it's passed he's afraid Tadashi might pass out again. His brother slumps back against the pillows and takes a deep breath. "I can't do that if I'm trying to work and go to school at the same time," he rasps, significantly quieter.

"And I have to make money."

Something is tightening around Hiro's chest. "But…but…you love SFIT."

Another feeble smile. "I love you more."

If Hiro thought the weight of guilt was heavy before, it's crushing him now.

Tadashi can't be serious.

Hiro has spent the majority of his life listening to his big brother go on and on about how he wanted to help people, to make a difference in the world. He's been the springboard for a countless number of Tadashi's ideas for improvement and enhancement. And he'd been there when Tadashi received his letter of acceptance from San Fransokyo Tech and could personally vouch for the fact that it was one of the happiest moments in his brother's life.

The fact that he's thinking about giving it all up for Hiro's sake is more than Hiro can comprehend.

He stares at his brother with an open mouth and what surely must be a look of distress. Just as he's about to speak—what, he doesn't know, but he'll come up with something—Tadashi holds up a hand to stop him.

"Don't say anything, Hiro. I want to make something very clear." He shifts in the bed so that he can look at Hiro dead on. "This is my decision. I don't have to do this, but I am because I want to. And I don't want you feeling like you're responsible for it. Okay?"

"But I am," Hiro whispers with a small shake of his head. "If it wasn't for me, you'd get to finish college. You wouldn't be so tired, and you wouldn't have gotten sick."

With a long-suffering sigh, Tadashi rolls over and lies back on the mattress. "I guess you're right. I mean, I could always throw you out on the street, and then I wouldn't have to deal with you anymore." He flashes Hiro a teasing grin, and Hiro finally cracks a small smile along with a roll of his eyes. "You really think I'd rather stay in school than have my little brother happy and well taken care of?" Tadashi shakes his head like it's the most absurd thing in the world. "You really are a bonehead, bonehead."

Hiro finally calms enough to sit back down on the edge of the bed. But, suddenly, he can't look at Tadashi anymore. He keeps his eyes trained on his lap and fiddles with his jacket's zipper. "It's just not fair," he mutters. "You actually _like_ school. You shouldn't have to be the one to give it up."

"Well, life's not fair," Tadashi says quietly. "When I agreed to be your guardian, I knew I'd have to make sacrifices. I wouldn't have signed the papers if I wasn't prepared to do what I have to do. Besides, your happiness is a lot more important to me than mine."

 _It shouldn't be_ , Hiro thinks bitterly. _Can't you just be selfish for once in your life?_

He's about to voice this when Tadashi suddenly launches into another coughing fit. The spasms are deep, scraping sounds, thick and rattling with congestion, and Hiro decides it best to save this argument for later.

When the coughing spell is done, Tadashi looks completely spent. Hiro gathers up the dishes and gives his brother a meaningful look. "Well, right now, just worry about yourself, okay? You won't be any good to either of us if you don't get better."

His brother merely nods and closes his eyes, and by the time Hiro returns from the kitchen he's asleep again.

* * *

Despite Tadashi's protests, Hiro stays home from school the next to take care of him. His fever has remained pretty constant, much to Hiro's dismay and frustration, but Tadashi keeps saying that it'll break soon and _yes_ , he's sure he doesn't need a doctor. He's not as lethargic as the previous day, so maybe Hiro's care is working to some degree.

They spend the majority of the day on the couch in the living room, watching movie after movie. Tadashi's appetite is slowly returning too, so Hiro is more than happy to supply them both with bowls of popcorn and hot chocolate.

Tadashi's friends come by in the early evening with takeout from his favorite restaurant. They stick around for while and have a picnic dinner on the floor until it becomes evident that Tadashi is too tired to socialize anymore, so they put in another movie and leave quietly when it's over and the elder Hamada is out cold in his cocoon of blankets.

"Let us know if you guys need anything at all, okay, little man?" Wasabi whispers to Hiro as the entourage heads for the door.

Hiro nods and says that he will. Everyone says they hope Tadashi feels better soon as they file out, and soon he's left once again in a quiet apartment. He cleans up the dishes and trash, stores the leftovers, and turns off the TV before rousing Tadashi and getting him into bed (not without a struggle and a lot of nagging).

It's only when the bedroom door is closed and he has only Baymax for company that he lets his mind once again wander to yesterday's conversation.

And he decides that no matter what Tadashi says, he can't let him worry about their finances all by himself. He can't let him get this exhausted again.

He's not going to let Tadashi throw away his entire future just for his sake.

So, he pulls out the notebook that stores all of his invention ideas, sharpens a pencil, and gets to work on designs for a fighter bot.

"Sorry, bro," he mutters under his breath. "I'm just returning the favor."

* * *

 **I may or may not add one-shots based in this AU to this story... I don't have any good ideas right now, but I'd like to write more for the AU in the future.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


End file.
